Over The Course Of A Weekend
by oxcaitymariexo
Summary: The events occuring over one weekend in the lives of our favorite NCIS agents. My first fanfic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first fanfic, so please be don't be **_**too**_** harsh.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned NCIS, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction, would I?**

**This takes place a few months after "Rule Fifty One." And since I obviously don't know where they're going with that story line, I'll pretend whatever is going to happen has already been dealt with.**

"**McGee! Movie fest. My house. Tonight. Bring Abby." Tony Dinozzo leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head. It had been a long week, and he was grateful it was finally Friday. They had wrapped up the case they'd been working on since Saturday, down to the last bit of paperwork.**

"**No date tonight, Tony?" Tim McGee raised an eyebrow at his teammate. Tony sat up in his chair, pretending to look hurt.**

"**Hey, can't a guy just spend a Friday night with his buddies watching movies and enjoying their company?"**

"**She cancelled again, huh?" Tony wadded up a piece of scrap paper and threw it at him.**

"**Yeah. You coming or not?"**

"**Let me see what Abby's doing." Tim pulled out his phone to text the forensic scientist. The elevator dinged and Ziva walked briskly into the bullpen, sitting at her desk and pulling a small mirror out of her desk drawer.**

"**Plans tonight, Zee-vuh?" Tony crossed the room and sat on the edge of her desk, grinning down at her. Ziva checked her make-up in her compact mirror once before snapping it shut and shoving it in her drawer.**

"**Yes, actually, Tony. Now go away." She stood up and started pulling her jacket on. Purse was slid over her shoulder and she turned to leave. Finding Tony had blocked her way, she almost bumped into him and rolled her eyes.**

"**Anyone we know?" She zigged left and so did he, blocking her way again. She zagged right, so did he.**

"**Tony! No, no one you know. And I am late. Now… Do you mind?" She gave him "the look" and he moved to the side. He watched her head for the elevator.**

"**Tell tall, dark, and handsome that I said 'Hi'!" He could hear her laughing as the door shut.**

"**Well, looks like it's just the three of us then, McGoo." He turned to McGee, grin back on his face.**

"**Sorry Tony, Abby invited me to go to a concert with her. Looks like it's just you. Maybe Palmer's free." Tim gave a little smile as he grabbed his things and headed for the stairs down to Abby's lab. Tony looked around the bullpen, scratching his head. Damn, didn't **_**anyone**_** want to spend Friday night with him?**

"**Problem, Dinozzo?" Leroy Jethro Gibbs came around the corner and headed for his desk, grabbing his coat.**

"**No, Boss. Just trying to decide what to do tonight. You got plans?" Tony looked hopeful, maybe he could get Gibbs to go out and have a drink with him. That was definitely less loserly than sitting at home alone. Gibbs raised an eyebrow at him, amused.**

"**Yes. Good night, Dinozzo." And with that he headed for the elevator and was gone. Tony sighed and grabbed his stuff, resigned to the fact that he was alone tonight.**

**Ziva sat at a small table in a dimly lit restaurant. Her date had gone to the bathroom, and she took this time to check the text messages she could hear pinging from her phone. Four in all, all from Tony. All something stupid. She had to laugh. He was bored, she knew. And she even felt a little bit bad about not telling him who her date was. But really, it was none of his business. He'd make a big deal out of it, and she wasn't in the mood to argue with him. It had been a long week. She had just finished texting him back to grow up when former corporal Damon Werth returned to their table. He took his seat and picked up the menu, looking it over.**

"**You know what you want?" He smiled over the top of the menu at her. This was the fifth time they'd been out in as many months. Damon had relocated to Cleveland, but whenever he was in town they had dinner and a night of amazing no-strings-attached sex. It was not a serious thing, they had an understanding. Both had been through things that they did not want to talk about. Sometimes you just needed to be with someone and not have to think or explain yourself.**

"**Yes." She reached over and ran one hand up and down his arm, lightly. "I know exactly what I want." **


	2. Chapter 2

McGee shook his head. He had lost weight and built muscle. He had gained confidence, and was definitely starting to feel more comfortable with himself in general. He was not just some nerd that everyone could push around anymore! He was a man. So why was it that he still had such a soft spot for Abby? She had been trying to get him to go to a concert with her for awhile now, and he had started to feel bad for always finding a reason not to. That was why he was standing in a dark, smoky little club. He had even let Abby dress him, sort of. Tight jeans and a black t-shirt were the closest to "goth" as he was willing to go. She'd even talked him into wearing one of her bracelets. A strobe light was flashing, making him a little bit nauseous. "Smiling Death," Abby's newest favorite band, was screaming into the microphones. There was a drink in each of his hands because, as Abby had said, she "couldn't set her drink down! What if someone tried to drug it?" So he followed her around the dance floor, like a puppy, while she spun and danced and jumped around with strangers.

"Abs! Abb-ee!" He tried to yell over to her, but she couldn't hear him over the noise. The combination of the music and the lights and the smell were all starting to get to him. He was about to go grab Abby and tell her it was time to leave when a woman bumped into him.

"Oh hey, sorry. Is that your friend over there? She really looks like she's having a good time, huh?" The woman smiled and kept dancing right along. He watched Abby for a moment. He couldn't help but smile at her infectious grin and childlike exuberance. Abby worked hard all week, and it _had_ been a long week. She deserved to have some fun, right? He slammed the last of his beer, and then the rest of Abby's before tossing the bottles on the bar and pushing his way through the crowd to join her.

Ziva lay on her back, panting and laughing at the same time. The neighbors would really be upset this time. No one had ever accused her of being quiet, and she knew that their bedroom was on the other side of the wall from hers. Damon laughed too, knowing full well what she was thinking. They had started in the living room, clothes thrown everywhere. From the couch to the wall in the hallway and finally to the bedroom. The lady next door gave him dirty looks whenever he saw her. He motioned for Ziva to turn over, and they laid like that for a little while, with him spooned against her back. His hand made lazy circles across her thigh and she smiled, content.

Who else could she do this sort of thing with? Ziva wondered. Some one she cared enough about to make it not awkward, but wouldn't have to have long, serious talks with or decide "where this was going." Who wouldn't be demanding of her time. Tony? She didn't think they could ever do anything casual. There was too much history there, too many feelings. She trusted him with her life, to have her back, everyday. That would be too complicated. Besides, he talked too much. McGee was good looking enough, but they had worked together so long now, he was more like a brother than someone she might want to sleep with. Palmer? Engaged. Ducky? Even if he'd been a little younger, he fell into the same category as McGee… almost family. Besides, talk about talking too much. Gibbs? That was just… disturbing. Like thinking about sleeping with Eli, or Ari if he was still alive. She cringed and shook her head a little, why was she thinking about all these other men in her life while she was laying in the arms of this one? She lifted Damon's hand up to her face and kissed his palm. He placed a kiss somewhere in her hair and rolled over, so they were laying back to back. Cuddling was great for a little while, but they were both used to sleeping alone. No one wants to sleep with someone else's hot breath all down your neck. Ziva smiled and snuggled down into the blankets. Perfect.

Gibbs sat on a stool in his basement, taking a swig from a bottle he'd pulled out from under the worktable. The basement was fairly empty, his latest boat had been finished and given to a buddy of his who loved sailing. People kept telling him that he should sell his boats, he put so much time and work into them, but he just couldn't do it. If he was a more sentimental man, he'd say it was because boat building was a labor of love. But he was Gibbs, so he just told them to mind their own business.

Whenever a boat was finished, he'd sit down there for a little while, as if he was trying to decide what his next project should be. Which was ridiculous, because it was always a boat. But that was part of his process. He'd wait a week or so, as if he was deciding, and then he'd start building. The last boat had been gone almost two weeks; he decided that tomorrow was the day to go buy some wood.

A pair of long, feminine legs appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Jethro?" She called down curiously.

"Down here." His newest, beautiful, redheaded lady friend headed down in nothing but one of his seemingly endless supply of NIS t-shirts and a pair of boxers.

"What are you doing down here?" She picked up some of his tools, looking them over before laying them down. "What's all this?"

"They're tools. Woodworking tools. I was just coming back up to bed."

"What are they for?"

"For building with wood, Lisa." He raised an eyebrow at her and laughed when she scowled at him. "I build boats."

"Right here, in the basement? But how do you get them out when you're through?" He smiled and gave the slightest shrug. She shook her head. He was so impossible sometimes. She looked at the two pictures he had tacked up on the wall by his tools. One was of a larger group of people, one was of two women, smiling with an arm around each other.

"Who's this?" She asked, trying to keep the hint of jealousy from her voice. He laughed again.

"That's my team. Dinozzo, McGee, Ziva, Abby, Ducky, and Palmer. And Ziva and Abby in the other one." The pictures were from the small party they'd had to celebrate Ziva's becoming an American. Abby had tacked them up right in front of him, giving him a defiant look. She'd laid the guilt on him so hard for having missed Ziva's ceremony that he hadn't had the heart to tell her to take them down. Maybe he _was_ getting sentimental in his old age.

"Do you all work well together?" Lisa asked, more curious now than jealous. They all looked so… different.

"Did you ever have a dog?" She raised an eyebrow, wondering where he was going. "You work hard and you get them trained just the way you want. You can take them for a walk without a leash. They stay off the furniture, don't beg, and only bark at strangers. Sure, they may still pee a little in the house when they get excited, but for the most part they're well behaved. I have a whole team of puppies, and I'm too old to start breaking any new ones in."

Lisa laughed and took his bottle away from him, setting it on the counter.

"Sounds like they've got a good teacher." That famous Gibbs smirk was back on his face, and she pulled him toward the stairs. She knew one thing he wasn't too old to do.


	3. Chapter 3

"Ha ha ha ha!" Tony was wrapped in a blanket on his couch, a big bowl of cereal in his hands. Every time he laughed, he spit cereal all over. He had intended to come home and get dressed to go out, but he just hadn't felt like it. Instead, he was watching "History of the World."

"Comic Genius! I gotta tell Ziva that one…" He muttered to himself and picked up his phone from the coffee table, setting his cereal down. Thumbs quickly texted Ziva a few funny Mel Brooks quotes and he set his phone back down to wait. He had been texting her since the movie started, trying to irritate her on her date. He didn't _really _want to _ruin_ her date, he just wanted revenge for her not telling him who it was. So far she had threatened to change her phone number, to Gibbs-slap him into next week when she saw him on Monday, and to kill him using his cellphone (something he sort of wanted to see her try, even though he was pretty sure she could figure out a way to do it). Finally, she had just told him to "grow up." Like that was going to happen.

He had tried texting McGee, too, but he hadn't even gotten one reply. He knew better than to text Gibbs. He amused himself by wondering what they all were doing. McGee was probably following Abby around the concert, holding her drink and scowling at any other guys who tried to talk to her. He laughed at the thought of it. Gibbs was probably drinking and working on a boat down in the basement. He couldn't picture him doing anything else on a Friday night. There was a time when he would've pictured Ziva doing something like challenging her date to a martial arts contest. She'd kick his ass and then make him take her to dinner. Or maybe a fencing match. Where she'd knock his little sword out of his hands and make him take her to dinner. But he had known her too long now, knew her too well. Now he could picture her having dinner and then going home to discuss a book with some nerdy guy.

He wrinkled his nose. If he was going to waste a Friday night fantasizing about Ziva, he certainly didn't want to be fantasizing about her playing book club with some guy in suspenders and glasses. Especially not since he knew what she looked like in a bikini. He picked up his phone to see if she had texted him back yet. She hadn't. He sent her a couple more texts to annoy her, but it wasn't as fun without a reaction. He put his phone back on the table and put in another movie since the ending credits had started to roll. Why did everyone else seem to have a life suddenly but him?

Abby pulled McGee's keys out of his pocket and fumbled with them, trying to get his front door open. They had both had quite a bit to drink, and had taken a cab back to McGee's apartment. She had wanted to go home to her own apartment, but she had never seen McGee drink that much before. She was a little nervous to leave him all alone. She got the door opened and put his arms around her neck again, trying to lead him into the house.

"Hey, this place looks just like my place!" He grinned and slapped a hand against the wall, stumbling. "When did you redecorate, Abby?"

"This is your place, Tim! Now let's get you into bed." She steered him in the direction of the bedroom, kicking closed the door behind her and throwing down his keys.

"Abby!" He tried to look at her sternly, and grabbed her face. "You are drunk, you don't know what you're saying. I am not going to sleep with you while you're in- in- inebri…" The room seemed to be spinning and he ran for the bathroom. She could hear the sound of him retching through the door and rolled her eyes in disgust.

"That's good, Timmy, because it wasn't an offer!" She yelled in to him. She went into the kitchen, getting herself a drink before coming back to the bedroom to strip down to her undies and t-shirt. She peeked into the bathroom to make sure McGee was still alive. One arm was on the toilet seat, and his head was on his arm. He was fast asleep, drooling. She shook her head and made an "ick" sound before turning around and climbing into his bed. She'd check on him later to make sure he didn't fall into the toilet and drown.

Gibbs sat at his kitchen table, sipping his coffee and reading his newspaper. Lisa worked on Saturday mornings, and she had already dressed and left. He was definitely going to the lumber store today. He also needed to wash his car. Maybe get an oil change while he was out. But first, he put his paper down and picked his phone up and did something he'd promised to start doing every Saturday.

"Hey, dad? Hey… how's it going?"


End file.
